Love and Let Die (Masters and Mercenaries #5)(53)

He talked on, but Charlie relaxed, letting his voice flow over her, finding that connection that had been missing most of her life except for those precious weeks.

She would do whatever it took to never lose it again.





Chapter Eight

Ian helped a very subby Charlie off the table. After the initial demo, she’d seemed to relax and allowed him every possible liberty with the rest of the scene. She hadn’t protested once when he drew the cotton out in elaborate trails that led from between her breasts all the way down to her toes. Each time he lit her up, there was a momentary breathlessness and then a brilliant smile as the flame died out, never once harming her.

At least he thought it hadn’t really touched her. It hadn’t been his intention to put her into subspace, but he was pretty sure she was still there. He needed to get her out of the crowd and ensure that he hadn’t burned her in any way. When Charlie was in subspace, she could take a lot more pain than normal. At least she used to be able to.

“Why don’t you take her to the locker room and let her come down?” Alex asked, stepping up to start dealing with the scene clean up. “I’ll take care of this. You deal with aftercare.”

Charlie was in a robe Eve had brought her, her arms wrapped around her middle, but a beatific smile on her face. God, she looked so innocent it was sometimes hard to remember all the shit she pulled.

“I’ll take her to the locker room for you,” Eve offered.

Eve was overstepping a bit, though she couldn’t really know it. Eve often took care of his subs after the play was done because they needed more than he was willing to give them. But this was different. He hadn’t signed a contract with Charlie outlining what he would and wouldn’t do for aftercare. No matter what he wanted, Charlie was his sub for now and he would take care of her. He swung her up into his arms and started walking away.

“Don’t you think that was a little rude, Sir?” Charlie asked, but her head was already drifting to his shoulder, her arms around his neck. “Shouldn’t you have said something to Eve?”

He thought he’d made himself pretty plain. “I prefer actions to words. Words can be taken different ways. Me walking away told Eve everything she needs to know.”

Like to stay out of his relationship with his sub. Except it wasn’t a relationship. Not really.

And maybe he’d gotten into topspace. Playing with her, having her trust him, had gotten him a little high, too. She wasn’t the only one who’d been hit with a ton of adrenaline. Every time he’d touched the wand to the cotton, a thrill had flared through him as well, and he didn’t pretend it would have been that way with any sub. This was his sub, the one who was attuned to his needs and desires, the one who somehow completed him. It was different with the others, and when she was gone he would mourn her all over again, but then he’d always known he would mourn her for the rest of his life.

His body was humming, a healthy lust strumming through his system. Why should he drop her off at the locker room? He’d been honest with her. He’d told her everything that would happen if she got sexual with him again. He’d explained that it wasn’t a relationship and never would be. It was sex, and sex between them had always been f*cking incredible.

Charlie was a big girl who knew all the rules. Why should he leave her alone? Why shouldn’t he take this time and enjoy the f*ck out of her body?

“Can I talk now?” Charlie asked in a low voice.

“You’re not very good at the whole ‘high protocol’ thing. We’re going to have to work on that.” He carried her past the bar toward the privacy rooms. There were three in Sanctum, each nothing more than a tricked-out bedroom with hooks and eyelets in the walls and ceilings for bondage and suspension play. He would have taken his kit with him, but there was no need. This wasn’t about discipline. It was about getting off. It was about letting his cock have its way.

“I get the feeling you would keep me in high protocol forever if you could.” She cuddled against him, not seeming to care that everyone in the club was watching them.

Ian cared, but there wasn’t a hell of a lot he could do about it. They would watch and gossip. It was a part of life. When he wasn’t on the receiving end, he was usually watching and commenting, so he accepted it. “We get along better when you don’t talk.”

“Caveman.” She slapped lightly at his chest but there was no real intent behind it. “You know you’re kind of a Neanderthal.”

Sometimes he envied the bastards. All they had to do to find a mate was locate a pretty female, knock her over the head and drag her away by the hair. No one thought a thing about it. The cavewoman was then expected to keep a clean cave, spit out some cro-mag babies, and make sure there was a nice sabertooth stew on when the hubby came home. He was betting cavewomen hadn’t run around becoming international information brokers with assassins after them. And they were probably damn fine at high protocol.

“You’re wishing we were cave people, aren’t you?” Charlie asked, a little frown on her face.

She had always been damn good at reading him. “It seems like it was probably a good time to be a man.”

She groaned. Again, not something he would have had to worry about with someone like Amanda. She would have agreed with everything he said and then turned around and made fun of all his female friends. Charlie, on the other hand, defended his female friends and made fun of him. Somehow, he liked Charlie’s way better. Her head came off his chest as she seemed to realize something was wrong. “This doesn’t look like the way to the locker room.”